Confession
by Kit Moreau
Summary: If he's going to die, he will do so with a clear conscience. Oneshot. Slash. LuciusRaven, RenaultLucius if you squint.


_A/N: Another recent 'fic from an older idea that didn't go away. I'm not really going to soapbox on religion because of a fanfic; it's just one old man's view on his own religion. I have a bit of a fascination with Renault, though I don't explore it much. R/R I guess~_

He'd found one of the few secluded spots left in this part of the island, a shaded copse far from the encampment, to rest. He'd grown used to being alone- the hustle and bustle of a war party preparing for battle was making him nervous and jumpy.

The weathered bishop sat on a fallen tree, not bothering to worry about dirtying his robes. Here, he could _breathe_. He let his eyes close, his hands folded over the gem on top of his staff. After a few moments, his breathing had evened out and he could feel his heartbeat leveling off again.

"Father...?"

Renault's eyes opened slowly, gaze drawn by the light shining weakly on golden hair.

"Brother Lucius?" It was the army's other bishop standing there in the light, crystal-blue eyes worried and posture hesitant. Renault beckoned him over and patted the rough bark beside him. "You're uneasy, my son. Sit, tell me why."

Lucius paused, looking to one side and then to the other, as if he was worried about being followed. For a moment, he fidgeted with his sash.

"Lucius, I assure you, I will not bite." The younger bishop's cheeks tinted pink but he drew closer and took the seat offered him. He back was ramrod-straight, though, and he just stared forward, gazing at the tops of the trees.

"We move out tomorrow." Lucius's voice was soft, lacking his usual warmth and optimism. Renault nodded, experience telling him to remain silent. Sometimes not speaking did more good than words ever could.

The blond's gaze fell to the ground between his feet. "I'm afraid, Father. Should this be the end for me, I... do not wish to go with my heart burdened by secrets. Will you allow me a confession to clear my conscience?"

Renault rested a hand on the younger man's shoulder, trying to afford him some small comfort.

"Of course, my son."

Lucius eased off the tree and knelt beside the older man, placing his forehead against Renault's knees in a gesture of trust and penitence.

"Father, I have sinned," he paused for a few shaky breaths and Renault began stroking the golden strands of hair, once again trying to comfort him. This was no typical action in a confession, but the man- boy, really, he was so young- was beginning to shake...

"My son, no sin is enough to deny you the right to forgiveness. Tell me, that I may absolve you of this burden."

Lucius looked up, tears in his eyes.

"Forgive me, Father, this is... difficult. For... some time, I have harbored... impure thoughts... desire... _love_, even, for a man who has almost become more important to me than my faith itself..." He blinked back the tears and lowered his head again. "It is only I who know of my sins, myself and the Saint and now you, Father. For years I have fought with a love, a desire so strong it threatens to overwhelm me..."

Renault remained silent. The sadness in the boy's voice made his chest tighten. It wasn't his own guilt that made him want to comfort the boy- it went beyond his obligation laid on him by his station- it was genuine _care_, worry for his well-being... the hand that was stroking his hair moved to stroke the soft skin of his cheek. Clear blue eyes looked up at him once again.

"There is a part of me that does not wish for forgiveness. I beg absolution for my foolishness, Father..."

Gray eyes softened as a tear slid down the boy's cheek, and the older bishop joined the younger one on the ground. He groaned lightly as his joints creaked in protest, but remained on his knees. He took the blond's head in his hands, weathered palms against soft cheeks, and looked at him eye-to-eye.

"Love is nothing to beg forgiveness for, my son."

Lucius looked up, confusion and surprise evident in his crystal-blue eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but Renault placed a finger over the boy's lips to silence him.

"Let me speak, Lucius." He watched the perfect, soft lips close and shivered slightly at the feel of the slightly damp skin against his finger. "Thank you. You love this man with all your heart, correct?" Lucius didn't even need to nod at this- the old bishop could see his answer in his eyes. "You wish to give him whatever he asks of you, yes? Would give your life and your all for him?"

This time, Lucius was nodding vigorously, hope practically spilling over in his eyes.

"Now, my child: what are the core principles for men and women of the cloth?"

Renault removed his finger and allowed Lucius to speak.

"L-love... service... a-and sacrifice..." Blond eyebrows arched upwards and Renault's weathered face creased into a knowing smile. The boy was getting it.

"You love him. You wish to serve him. You would sacrifice your everything for him. This... I see no wrong in this desire. Stand, my son."

Lucius rose quickly, almost knocking Renault back in his excitement. The older bishop rose slowly, groaning softly again as his bones protested. He took the boy's hand and held it between his own.

"I absolve you of all sins, real or imagined. If your guilt still weighs heavily on your heart, then it is not I or the Saint to whom you should confess."

Lucius's cheeks flushed a bright red and he stammered out a few short syllables. Renault chuckled.

"And should you worry about putting him before your Saint, remember: it was Elimine you first begged forgiveness of. Your faith is still strong." Renault drew forward and pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead. "Go forth, my son, with your heart lighter and your mind open. May the words of the Saint bless you as you walk in Her footsteps."

Lucius bowed and then made eye contact with the bishop, face once again bright.

"Thank you, Father."

Renault sat wearily back onto the fallen log with a sigh, watching Lucius make his way back to the camp. His face creased into the tired smile again and he leaned heavily on his staff. The boy was a beacon... it did his heart well to see that he'd made him shine once again.


End file.
